


Whiskey Whispers

by ThusAtlas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Smut, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Humour, Implied Sexual Content, Macaroni Pots and Hotdogs, Or Trouser Python, PWP without Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Satire, Sexual Content, Smut, Sort Of, The Author Regrets Nothing, Trouser snake, You'll see what I mean, ish, the author chose chaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusAtlas/pseuds/ThusAtlas
Summary: Hermione is hungry.No, not hungry - ravenous! And Draco is the only thing she's craving.No matter how their story is spun, their throes of passion are undeniably unforgettable.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	Whiskey Whispers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Canttouchthis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canttouchthis/gifts), [Amarillis39](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarillis39/gifts), [PTwritesmore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/gifts).



> Hi. So. Firstly, I would like to apologise for creating this. Secondly, final warning, this is satire and purposefully written in the following way. If you're looking for a genuine Dramione smut, can I tempt you with Moribund instead? https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610508/chapters/67548431
> 
> I would like to thank Canttouchthis, PTWritesmore and Amarillis for being the worst/best enablers for this - they are equally as responsible for its inception.
> 
> Without further ado...enjoy?

Hermione looked up at Draco through her fluttering lashes, her lips parted, her chest heaving. Draco took another step closer as he peeled his shirt from his shoulders. Hermione’s eyes trailed over the thick cords of his muscled torso that rippled with the movement in the firelight. 

“Oh god,” she whispered weakly as he crowded her space, his large presence overwhelming her. She could feel the heat radiating from him through the thin layers of her dress. 

Slowly, Draco lifted his hand to cup her jaw, his fingers settling on the pulse point on her neck as he tipped her chin to meet his eyes. 

Hermione had only a second to bask in his intense silver gaze before his lips crashed into hers. She gasped, parting her lips, as his tongue slipped against hers, dancing, writhing, twisting for dominance. His large hands circled her waist, roughly pulling her to him. Heat settled in the base of her well as she felt the outline of his trouser snake, hard against her. 

Well, ‘snake’ seemed kind of reductive… She ran her trembling fingers over his engorged python and keened with need as she pushed against him. 

Draco rumbled low in his chest as his lips quirked into a smirk. Without a word of warning, he lifted her easily, guiding her legs around him as his mouth organ continued its mating ritual. Steadily he walked them through the living space and into the bedroom before he deposited her on the bed. 

All the breath was pushed from her chest as Hermione bounced on the mattress. Before she could recover, Draco’s hand circled her thighs, rucking up the skirt of her dress as he parted them. 

“Are you sure?” he said, his voice hoarse; he looked up at her through the part of the legs, inches from her treasure trove. 

“Y-yes,” Hermione breathed, as the fire’s of Dante’s Inferno stoked in her belly. “Don’t you dare stop now.” 

Draco’s lips tilted into a sinful smirk; he released one of her thighs to lay on his shoulder, as he tore the delicate lace of her knickers. She barely had time to berate his carelessness before he descended on her Lady Grove. Hermione arched as his slippery mouth digit flicked against her Pearl-of-the-Ocean, coaxing her slip N slide to weep its angel tears. 

Her thighs began to quiver as he lapped at her Fountain of Youth in slow, torturous strokes as his long fingers slowly entered the wondrous land of Hermione’s Lady Cave. Draco curled his nimble phalanges, stroking the nexus point of her Pandora’s Box, coaxing the molten flow of her Vesuvian lava ever closer. Draco’s growl of satisfaction vibrated against her Jewelled Seedling as he closed his lips around it, feasting like a starving man.

Hermione’s femine banks burst, erupting her essence with an audible _sploosh_. Her toes pointed, high above Draco’s shoulder as he unrelentingly coaxed her Heaven’s Gate open to him, conducting the Angels to sing him another Aria. 

As the flashing lights behind her eyes dimmed and the pounding in her ears quietened to a dull roar, Hermione opened her eyes, blinking away the blur. Draco leant over her, his eyes twinkling in the low light of the room; his lips and chin glistened in a way that made Hermione’s cheeks flush with heat. 

She reached up, running her fingers along his strong jaw before burying them in his hair. 

“I need you,” she whispered, as a crook of a smile crossed his lips. 

“As you wish,” Draco rumbled as he leaned down to capture her lips, his tongue immediately seeking dominance of another of her orifices. 

She growled in frustration as her eager fingers travelled from his hair, down the warm smooth ridges of his torso, only to stumble, impeded by the button of his trousers. Her fingers slipped as they tried to unfasten the fiendish creation, causing her to writhe in increasing fury at the offending piece of clothing. Draco chuckled darkly against her neck as he reached behind him, to pull his wand from his back pocket. 

With a silent flick of his wrist, the heinous material was gone, leaving his long naked body to leisurely bask in the apex of her thighs. A shiver of want wracked through her body as Hermione felt the heavyweight of his schlong against her Cupid’s Lips. Draco murmured the familiar contraceptive charm and quickly vanished the rest of Hermione’s clothes before throwing his wand across the room. 

Hermione giggled breathlessly at his antics as Draco captured her in his arms once more, pressing a warm grin against her lips as he kissed her sweetly. 

But patience had never been a virtue of Hermione’s. 

She lifted her hips, running his Richard Dickson along the entrance of her Happy Grotto. 

“Please,” she whispered wantonly against his lips, which had curled into a smirk at her display. 

He reached down and in one easy manoeuvre, lined his Tall Johnson up with the starting line of her wet alley. Hermione breathed, her nerves electric with anticipation as her fingers clawed as his broad shoulders, desperate for all of him. 

With a sudden thrust, his tallywackle entered her pretty pocket, burying himself to his hilt, to the soundtrack of their groans of raw satisfaction. Draco lifted his head from where he’d lain it on Hermione’s shoulder, to kiss her tenderly. 

The drag of his todger as he withdrew, pulled another keen of want from Hermione’s lips. Draco’s motions picked up speed, his hotdog stirring her macaroni pot like an experienced Michelin Chef. He leant back and shifted his hips, holding hers off the bed in his large hands, bringing her to meet his hips with every thrust. From the new angle, every impact of his pee-pee teased the Nuclear button that lay hidden within her. 

“I’m not going to last,” he hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes roving over the undulating mounds of her funbags, that bounced with their movement. 

Every inch of Hermione was wound so tight, she feared she would shatter, falling apart at the very seams. Nonsensical rambling fell from her lips as all her focus narrowed down to the pull and drag of his engorged cucumber, that slipped like a happy snake within the magical walls of her Rapunzel’s Tower. 

Draco looped one arm under her backside, holding her in place as his now free hand sought an audience with the Bean of Life. The simultaneous punishment of his sausage in her waterslide, with the way that his thumb coaxed the Hooded Assassin, pushed her over the edge. She broke, her scream echoing off the walls; her boa-constrictor clamped down, contracting, never letting him go until she ripped his own pleasure from him. Within seconds, Draco’s guttural groan joined hers, a perfect harmonic bass accompaniment to her soprano. 

What little breath remained in Hermione’s chest vanished as his heavyweight collapsed on top of her, catching himself too late -

_“Hermione!”_

Hermione blinked, the room before her coming back into focus. She looked at Pansy and Ginny who had tears of laughter streaking their cheeks. 

“My, my Golden Girl,” Pansy wheezed breathlessly, “I need you to drink more often.”

Ginny wiped at the corner of her eye. “Seriously ‘Mione, what gives? So much detail and yet all this…” she waved her hand around.

“Lady Caves?” Pansy offered before giggling into her drink. 

Hermione drained the last of her tumbler and leant forward for the bottle of whiskey before her. 

“You said to tell you the details,” she said snipped as the amber liquid sloshed over the sides. “I don’t do crude, and you never said how.” She tipped her glass to the other girl and leant back into the safety of her seat, where the world spun just a little less. “Now would you like to hear about the time I dined on a sausage pop in his office?”

**Author's Note:**

> ...thoughts?


End file.
